Words Alone Just Won't Do

I’ve been in Trondheim for six weeks and am acclimating to some of the ways they do things here. But a few customs are so different, so strange, that they must be analyzed before they are understood and accepted. Today I will discuss one Norwegian cultural peculiarity that has been on my mind from the beginning. Norwegians can be, self-admittedly, shy and reserved when meeting new people. This potentially poses a problem when you are one of the biggest universities in the country and must greet approximately 1000 new international students at the start of the school year. So, how does NTNU reach out to foreigners? By singing, of course.

Monday, August 15, 2011, 9:00am. International Student Orientation. The VERY first official interaction between the university and new foreign students was in song form. A musical act took the stage of the auditorium before any “welcome” and without any introduction. A surprising first point of business for the day.

This duo sang Norwegian songs and led us in a silly sing-a-long.

I swear, each event during the orientation week included some sort of song and I have the documentation to prove it. During a BBQ outside the International Office, our attention was called upward to a window where a lovely young employee appeared and serenaded us with “Summertime.” 

Ironic song choice considering the weather, but indeed, this is summertime in Trondheim.

Singing is a bit of a national pastime in Norway and choirs are a big deal. Several of my Norwegian relatives, of all ages, are choir members. And don’t think for a second there are just one or two choirs at the university. No, it seems like every branch of the school has its own singing group. Take for instance, Foetus Ex Ore, the men’s choir at the Faculty (Dept.) of Medicine. Apparently, there were enough musically inclined medical students needing an outlet that they started a choir. Here is Foetus Ex Ore welcoming us with a tune at a master’s orientation meeting:

Girls have special choirs, too. At another orientation event we listened to several songs in Norwegian from this spirited group:

All this music is presented as entertainment, or just a bit of culture, but I don’t buy that. I’ve never listened to so much gratuitous melody in my life or heard tell of it anywhere else in the world.

Here’s my theory:

Norwegians are inherently at least a little awkward. I mean that in the kindest way possible and being part Norwegian myself, I think I’m allowed to say it. That said, Norwegians are also a kind and hospitable people. I believe they use song as a way to bridge the gap between a sincere, welcoming attitude and an honest lack of another way to convey that sincerity. Maybe it didn’t start that way, but song is now a frequently used tool to incorporate outsiders and spice up otherwise mundane introductions. Also, Norwegians tend toward informality, so goofy music first thing in the morning must feel normal for them. There were times I just wanted to get the information or food I came for and not be subjected to another song. But overall, I find it an interesting and endearing practice and I was delighted to listen to their beautiful voices. Delighted, but confused. J

Family makes the difference

I was thinking about how smoothly my inter-continental move and transition to life in Norway has gone so far. A big reason for that is my Norwegian family.  They are incredibly helpful and gracious, and a lot of fun to be around. Despite being distant relatives, they all treat me like one of their own. I was fortunate to see many of them in different cities during the 10 days I was in Norway before I moved into my dorm.

After flying from Krakow (I promise you’ll hear more about Poland at some point) to Oslo, I was met by my 3^rd cousin, Mari, and her husband, Ole Kristian. They were kind enough to let me crash on their couch for a few nights even though they were both busy with work, school, and prep for an upcoming wedding. While staying with them I got to enjoy the beautiful Oslo fjord and visit the site of the July 22^nd bombing. More on that later.

Mari and Ole Kristian

I hitched a ride with Mari to Jevnaker, her hometown and where her parents, Knut and Inger, live. I’d stayed at their house before so it was fun to be somewhere familiar, and see how it had changed. One major change was little Hans Ludvig, Mari and OK’s son. He was "on vacation" at grandma and grandpa's house. Though a little apprehensive at first, he eventually warmed up to me. We had lots of fun, at home and out and about. I thought I’d seen it all in Jevnaker, but Knut and Inger showed me new places, like a longhouse from the Iron Age (pre-vikings!).

Knut and Inger

  fast friends!

Knut and Inger also fed me especially well.  They joked that I had to eat meat and lots of it now, because it’s too expensive to buy on my own. And that's kind of true... 

So much meat for just three people!

Inger’s mother, Malene, lives up the street from her and Knut. We had a cake and coffee party at Malene’s house and all four of her daughters were there. I think that only happens a few times a year. We ate delicious fyrstekake and krumkake made by Malene and I was reunited with some young cousins.

Malene's tasty creations

Malene and her daughters: Inger, Randi, Bjorg, and Astrid

Bjorg's daughters: Kaja, Tuva, and Ida

Before I left Jevnaker I received several gifts, including hand-knit wool socks and hand-me-down pots and pans for my kitchen. I took the train from Oslo to Trondheim and was picked up from the station by Torgrim, my 3^rd cousin. His parents, Jon and Ingrid, hosted me during my first days in Trondheim, before I could move into my dorm. They live super close to school and the city center, an added bonus since I had a bunch of errands to run and stuff to do at school. They lent me some bedding for my room and Jon took me to IKEA one day to buy other necessities. Torgrim also handily fashioned me a new ethernet cable. As if all that wasn't enough, a few weeks ago Jon and Ingrid let my parents mail a giant box to their address. Jon picked the 60lb behemoth up from the post office, drove it to my building, and carried it up the stairs. I certainly didn’t do anything to deserve all the generosity I’ve been shown here. The warm welcome from all of my relatives helps Norway feel more like home.

My Humble Abode

Today you’ll get a glimpse into the place I call “home” in Trondheim. I live in a student housing block in a neighborhood south of the school and city center. Right now my room is the cleanest any of my bedrooms have ever been or probably ever will be, so I thought I’d let you have a look-see.

The building I live in is like a mix between a dorm and an apartment. It’s like a dorm because I share amenities with other students but it’s like an apartment because we don’t live two to a room on a hall with 30 other people. In my block, three people share each unit, including a kitchen and bathroom. I share my unit with a guy and another girl, who I’ll introduce to you later. Here is what you see when you walk in our front door:

There’s a large open space past the entryway that you can't really call a living room. I'm not sure what to call it, it's just there. Turning left takes you through our "living room" and into the kitchen:

Then you have this series of red doors:

Behind one of them is a man-eating tiger…

Actually, the toilet and shower (in separate rooms) are on the left and two bedrooms are on the right. A tad utilitarian, but not bad for student housing.

My bedroom:

You better believe I have a batphone.

The personal sink is a much-appreciated feature.

Where I sat to write this post.

The view from my window:

No fjord, unfortunately.

The back side of the housing block:

 One of those windows is mine!

If you walk up the hill behind my building you get a pretty nice view of Trondheim:

I like our location and I think the housing here has a good balance between privacy and community. Before I arrived I wasn’t sure what my living situation would be because you sign up for a room through the school and they put you wherever they want to. All things considered, it turned out well. It’s nice to have my own room and be done with the days of communal bathrooms.  It’s also good to be near other students and learn to live with new people.  Though I'm happy with it, thinking about living here for two years is a little strange. But it works for now, and it's also one of the only places I can afford!

The Land of Po: Warsaw

Poland. With the exception of Warsaw, I really liked it there. I was supposed to catch an early morning flight from London and land in Warsaw with six hours to get my bearings, have lunch, and explore before flying to Krakow. Several things caused these plans to go down the toilet. I got to Heathrow around 1am that morning and didn’t sleep, so I was tired and disoriented upon arrival in Warsaw. My flight was late and it took forever to find the left luggage office and buy a bus ticket, cutting in to my already short time. Luckily, I had done some internet research at home and picked up a few tips. I knew how to take the 175 aka “pickpocket bus” from the airport to the city, where I should walk to see famous sites, and how to say thank you (Jen KWEE yeh). I didn’t know what to expect but I was determined to see Warsaw instead of napping in the airport.

Clutching my purse tightly, I rode the hot, crowded pickpocket bus into the city and hopped off when this monstrosity came into view:

The Palace of Culture and Science

Ha, such a Soviet communist name. But in all seriousness, it’s one of the worst things I have ever seen. Stalin “gave” it to Poland as a “gift” during his reign. It’s like giving someone a really expensive but ugly shirt embroidered with “I suck but the person who gave me this shirt is awesome.” Today, The Palace houses a movie theater and other cultural and scientific things, I’m sure, but when I went in, all I could find was the movie theater, not even a bathroom. The whole time I was in the city I felt like this thing was looking over my shoulder, watching my every move. I don’t usually have strong architectural opinions but man, what an eyesore. I feel bad for people who have to see it everyday.

I just really hate it

I walked around Warsaw in a daze, dwarfed beneath ominously huge buildings. The streets were dingy and some as wide as our freeways. Four lanes each way doesn’t do much for pedestrian friendliness. I wanted to walk to Old Town Warsaw, the market square that was destroyed by the Germans during WWII and rebuilt afterwards to look really old again. But I didn’t make it. The map made it seem close but I failed to take Soviet city block length into consideration. It’s like they were giants or something.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or my natural distrust of “Eastern Europe,” but Warsaw was not nice. It struck me as anonymous and sad. I know I’m being unfair in judging a city based on a short visit, but that’s my story. It’s possible I could change my mind if I visit again, but I don’t see that happening any time soon. If you have something good to say about Warsaw, please, let me know. I shouldn’t beat up on it too much, though. For a city that’s seen that much destruction and foreign occupation, the fact it exists today is a triumph, I suppose. Still, I cannot tell you how glad I was to get out of there. 

Old London Town

From Poole, I took the bus back north to London where I met Graham’s son, Alex, and his girlfriend, Clare. I was so fortunate to stay them and Graham on my trip, and to get to know them better. Hanging with locals makes all the difference to me. I feel more like I belong when I step out the door in the morning. And to have a glimpse into normal life in another place is always a treat.

I’d seen and done a lot in London on my previous trips but I still had a full itinerary planned for each day. Exploring London on my own was great, especially using the Tube. I loved planning my route on the Tube and trekking all over the place. It’s a great feeling to be able to navigate a large and intimidating city with ease. I didn’t feel like I was in a large and intimidating city, but maybe that’s because I spent a lot of time underground.

With all the things I wanted to do I could easily have spent longer in London but instead I crammed each of four days full, returning satisfied and exhausted each night. I went to the Natural History Museum, Science Museum, National Portrait Gallery, Museum of London, Westminster and St. Paul’s evensong services, All Soul’s Church, “Along the Thames” pub walk, a concert at St. Martin’s in the Fields, and Trafalgar Square, among other places.

 Nerd alert! Watson and Crick's

DNA model at the Science Museum

 Trafalgar Square, with rare London sunshine

Here’s a few of the best things I did in London:

Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms

I’m not a history buff but lately I’ve had an urge to learn more about WWII. Or should I say, relearn everything I forgot from high school. I’m also not a huge fan of museums. That said, I thought the Churchill Museum was awesome. Most of the things on my to-do list in London were free or very cheap but this was the one exception. I was not disappointed in the least. I spent three hours learning about Winston Churchill and the war, and I didn’t want to leave. I would have stayed longer if I didn’t also want to make it to Westminster Abbey for evensong. The museum was informative, interesting, and well-designed, making it worth the price.

It was also very cool to see the cabinet war rooms (secret British government headquarters during WWII) preserved as they were right after the war ended. But this is the place to go to learn about Churchill’s incredible story. He was one of the only people to recognize Hitler’s evil and have the guts to do something about it. Plus, he’s hilarious and has a way with words, you should look up his quotes. I admired Churchill before, but now he qualifies as a personal hero.

Notice the Churchill statue to the right

Ceremony of the Keys

The Ceremony of the Keys is how the Tower of London is locked up every night. I’d been to the Tower on both of my previous trips to London so I didn’t want to see the whole thing again. For some reason, the Ceremony of the Keys is open to the public, which is a little odd. If you request admission months in advance, you can be a witness to the ceremony, for free! Now you understand why I had to do it… I sent my written request for tickets a few months before my trip and received three for myself, Alex, and Clare.

The Ceremony was short, and much of it was spent waiting, but it was still special. We were a part of 700 years of history, even if it happens every night. We (50 eager, giggling tourists) were led around by a cantankerous Beefeeter who explained the official protocol for locking the tower. He made it sound really serious but it can’t be that serious if they let a bunch of joe schmoes watch each night. Definitely worth seeing, but also a little disappointing because we didn’t get to lock any rooms ourselves or see who’s spending the night in the dungeon. I’m glad I got tickets for Alex and Clare too because it’s something that happens right under their noses that they wouldn’t have experienced otherwise. It’s funny how you sometimes don’t do cool things in your own city until you have a visitor to do them with.

 Alex & Clare between the Tower of London

and the Tower Bridge

I even saw royalty!

While I was out and about one day I stopped at Buckingham Palace to gawk at the mass of well-dressed people filing into the palace gates. It was the afternoon of the Queen’s garden party, attended by the who’s who of British society but also normal folks, invited because of something special they’ve done for their community.

Garden party guests,

with invitations and passports in hand

Dressed to impress the Queen

After awkwardly standing around and staring at the guests for half an hour, and feeling like I’d seen something really special, I turned to leave. Before I could cross the street where cars enter the palace gates I was stopped by a policeman. He wouldn’t let us cross because a convoy was going to enter the gates. I thought that a “convoy” sounded pretty neat so I decided to film it, and look who I saw:

In case you can’t tell, that’s Prince Charles and Camilla giving us a wave. They're no Will & Kate, but I'll take it. So cool to be in the right place at the right time to catch a glimpse of royalty. 

In summary, go to England, it’s fantastic. London, the coast, or the countryside, you can't go wrong. If you’ve been, you probably agree that there’s always more to see. A big thanks to Graham, Alex, and Clare for their hospitality. The sights were amazing but it’s the people that made my trip extra special.

Across the Pond, the Adventure Starts!

England was a great place to begin my journey. For starters, they speak English, and pretty well, too :) I had been there twice before so I wasn’t anxious about arriving in a totally new place. I think England is the perfect “starter country” for Americans traveling to Europe: it’s different than home and has so much to see, but it’s similar enough that you avoid overwhelming culture shock as you adjust to the new time zone. My time in England was split between three days on the southern coast and four days in London.

After landing at Heathrow, I took the bus to Poole, three hours south of London. I was greeted by Graham and his Jack Russell Terrier, Tommy Rogers.

Can you tell how out of it I am?

Graham is a family friend who we got to know after my sister and his son met in Denmark on an exchange program.  We spent time enjoying the beautiful and diverse seaside, as well as lounging at home and watching quality British television. Graham lives just a few minutes from Poole Harbour, where we walked along the water and the old town. It's kind of beach town, complete with waterfront mansions and lots of outdoor enthusiasts, especially kite-surfers in the summer. I saw beaches I never expected to see in England...

California? No, Dorset!

 Perfect kite-surfing weather

Also nearby is the Jurassic Coast. Yeah, I'd never heard of it either. It runs for miles and miles along England’s southern coast and is one of the few places in the world to see unique landforms and fossils that might be millions of years old. At first I was skeptical, but Graham drove me to Kimmeridge Bay, where you can break open a seemingly normal piece of rock and find yourself a fossil. We walked along a beach of large, flat rocks next to cliffs of layered shale. When we found a few rocks that suited us we set up camp and basked in the sun for the afternoon. It was remote and peaceful and one of the most beautiful days I had during my travels. There’s so much more to see along the Jurassic Coast so I hope to make it back someday.

The view from my rock

My time with Graham and Tommy Rogers was full of new experiences yet unhurried. They were perfect hosts, showing me all around Dorset but also giving me time to rest. We had several tasty meals and I had a dog to play with... I didn’t want much else!

Roast chicken and potatoes, and plenty of gravy, yum!

 The best way to rest when jet lag takes over

I purposely planned my trip so I could relax for the first few days and I'm glad I did. Feeling rejuvenated and ready for lots of sight-seeing, the next stop was London…

Trying to smuggle my new friend on the bus